His Royal Highness

Chapter 2: In the Service of the Royal Family

Chapter 2: In the Service of the Royal Family

I was walking endlessly down the corridor when I realized that I didn't know where the kitchen is. How can I be so stupid! I tried to retrace my step to ask for directions but it seems like I'm stuck in an endless maze. Great. Just perfect.

God must've heard my prayer because I heard someone walking not far away from where I stand. I followed the sound of the footsteps until I found someone in a royal guard's uniform.

"Excuse me!" I hollered to get his attention, which it did since he stopped and turned around to face me. He was surprisingly young, like he's not far from my age.

"Yes?" His cool authoritative voice replied.

"Do you know where the kitchen is?" I asked. I was insecure with myself because I am only wearing my rugged clothes, especially when he looked at me from head to foot. I'm the only one here who's not dressed sharply, I get that. I almost made a sound when he continued to look at me without saying something.

"Follow me." he muttered then he started marching with grace that surprised me along with the confidence that radiates through his body. It's as if he's the prince.

I gaze at the man who is now walking in front of me. His body is lean and by god he's tall. I cannot deny the fact that he is also very attractive which makes me feel confused even more. I've been feeling confused with myself recently because I'm more attracted to men than with women. Is that bad? Or is it normal like it's a sign of maturing perhaps? Whenever I see a handsome guy on the street I feel attraction... or maybe I'm just jealous of their looks. You see, I am just a plain looking man. Sometimes when vanity comes, I literally insult myself a thousand times-

"Mppff. Ouch." I massaged my nose because my face landed into a hard surface. As it turns out, the guy stopped walking a few seconds ago and myself being so occupied in thought, I didn't even noticed.

"Here we are. This is the kitchen." He stated, ignoring the fact that I bumped into him.

"Thank you, I really appreciate your help." He nodded and he went back to where he originally traveled. I watch him disappear in the hallway before opening the kitchen door to which I later regret doing.

This must be hell!

The kitchen was so warm from the smoke coming from the boiling cauldrons. It reeks with lots and lots of spices that it started to smell like smelly land here.

"Excuse me." I said to one of the cooks. Everybody seems to be very busy even in this time of day. The man didn't answer. He looks like he has no plan of answering me so I tried asking the other chef.

"Excuse me sir."

"Yes, how may I help you?" Thank god he answered, even though he seems slightly annoyed. "I'm looking for Mr. Stone."

"I'm sorry but I think he's very busy." Then he pointed to someone who is a monster? Not actually a real monster but...

"This fish is so uncooked it can actually eat you alive!" He shouted to one of the cooks. Somehow he reminded me of someone I know. Anyway, he continued on bickering that I was no longer afraid of the consequences of the Sorbea Perpetua. I am more fearful of having a conversation with this man.

"Mr. Stone!" I called him, trying to be brave.

"What?" He replied in annoyance.

"The man from the Legal Office gave me this, he said I'll be working here." My reply was being cut by the quivering of my voice. He took the paper from my hand and crumpled it in his fit of rage.

"Then what are you waiting for? Peel those potatoes over there!" Well that escalated quickly, but I'll be needing a knife and before I can even utter a word he hands me one.

"Here. I'll be needing those damn potatoes in 20 minutes."

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"Where the hell are those potatoes?" Speaking of the devil, my hands are now sticky and cramping from peeling a whole sack of potatoes, and if you ask me, I'm already worn out.

The devil, I mean Mr. Stone, examines my work of art.

"What the fuck is this shit?" He asked me.

"It's a peeled potato if you'll look at it very carefully." I replied cheekily.

"So much wastage of resources!" He pointed at the potato peels which were extremely thick.

"I'm sorry sir but I'm a farmer, not a cook."

"Then get the hell outta' here." He motioned me to leave, then he continued to peel the potatoes while cursing to himself why other people can't do a proper job.

So I just followed the boss' orders and I just stood there in the corner. Alone. Also cursing to myself why I was even assigned here. Though, I think being in the army is a better option than being here.

This is bothersome and unproductive, for the past hour and thirty minutes, I was idle in the corner like potato. That is until Mr Stone gave me a uniform and sends me to get one of the trays and to serve it to the grand ballroom. I don't even know where that is. That's why when I finished changing, I grabbed the trays and followed the line of servants that is going out on the doors.

When we arrived at the grand ballroom, I was mesmerized on how spacious the room is. The ceiling was impeccably painted like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Many people are dancing on the floor, both the men and women are dressed extravagantly it might cost a thousands of docents- that is, equal to a whole year of proletarian food.

I was so amazed that I never moved from my position and that I am in a state of shock until someone shouted not far from me.

"Here comes the Royal Family!"

Then the orchestra started to play the trumpets in order to welcome the iconic family in the country.

The front doors open and then it happened.

The King entered first followed by the Queen, but that is not the reason why my attention was caught. It is the fact that Mr. Stone was fuming mad because I am still standing near the door.

He was gesturing me to get my arse over there that instance. Of course being an obedient boy, I immediately moved my feet but from the second that I walked, I stepped on one of my shoestrings causing me to fall on the floor face first.

I heard the cluttering noise of the tray and the loud gasps of the visitors from the hall.

When I raised my head, I saw the red faced Mr. Stone whose hands are covering his face. He's probably murdering me in his imagination right now because I can see him cursing like there's no tomorrow. But more importantly I see a handsome guy who's glaring at me with his face covered with goo. Probably from the mashed potatoes that I carried, because that is the only logical explanation that I can think of. Mashed potato covered face is not yet a beauty trend obviously.

The servants immediately wiped the face of the prince and I feel like I'm Alice lost in wonderland.

Off with his head, said the queen.